Puppet
by Nintendian
Summary: She is everyone's perfect little porcelain doll, but they don't know she's already broken on the inside. - Hatsune Miku.


This is not a normal fanfic about Miku. I actually made her angsty. And why is Miku always the popular, perfect one? Let's find out...

Warning for depression and suicidal thoughts.

_I don't own Vocaloid._

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**Puppet**

{ and all of it is fake }

* * *

Miku strides confidently down the hallway of her high school.

Her long shiny teal hair flows behind her as she tosses it lightly over her shoulder. Her rosy pink shiny glossed lips curve into a beaming smile, directed towards everyone around her. Layers and layers of mascara coat her eyelashes, accompanied by sparkly eyeshadow, which makes her sea-green eyes shine. And of course, she's wearing the most fashionable, modern clothes. They look amazing on her, with her slender figure.

Voices chorus over to her:

"Hey, Miku! What's up?"

"Love your hair!"

"You look amazing today, like always!"

Miku blushes, flattered, and examines her smooth, polished nails, which she'd done the day before. She smiles at all these compliments, even though she hears them every single day now.

She's not only the most beautiful and popular girl in the whole school, she's the smartest and the most athletic, too. Every girl looks up to her and wants to be just like her. All the boys gaze at her as she walks by, wanting so badly to claim her as their girlfriend. _Every single person_ in the whole school wants to be her friend. They ask her to hang out, invite her to parties.

She is perfect.

Miku leans on her boyfriend and he wraps his arm around her. She giggles and bubbles on to her best friends, listening intently as they tell her what a great time they had at her party last Saturday, or as they gossip about the latest breakup.

But her friends don't really know her. Nobody does.

All they see is her outside, not her inside. They see her beautiful features and her slender figure. They see her straightened shiny teal hair and perfect makeup, her painted nails and stylish accessories. They _think _they see her "bright and bubbly" personality, her intelligence, her athletism.

All of it is fake.

— - O - —

Back to sixth grade.

Miku is your average young girl. She does pretty well in school, but she's not the type of person who studies ten hours a day—she's more carefree and relaxed. Miku's usually a nice and funny, although bold, person, but when she gets mad, watch out. (Yeah, she's totally normal.) She has her own group of friends. They all have average smartness, prettiness, athletic skills. They're just average _everything. _And Miku's perfectly okay with that.

She's never gotten along well with those nasty, popular girls, though. Everyone fears them and tries to avoid their path of destruction.

Miku doesn't. They can't control her—she can run her own life just fine—so why should she let them tell her what to wear and who to date? It's just stupid, she thinks. _They're _just stupid. But she doesn't pick fights with them because she can handle herself, unlike them.

The first time they ever insult Miku, they tell her, "What's with your _clothes? _Where do you get them, the Dumpster?"

Miku just rolls her eyes and laughs in their faces to show them that she doesn't care _what_ they say. Then she walks away with her head held high. She's always been strong and confident.

The girls obviously try to plot their revenge, because they come back the next day and tell her that she's weird, and why would anyone want to be her friend? Then they walk away, laughing.

Heh. In Miku's mind, they don't even have brain cells, so its kind of hard to actually consider what they say.

But the bullying worsens. The girls tease her every day after that. They gradually begin to to call her fat and ugly and make fun of her clothes. They spread rumors and nasty gossip about her, stories that make Miku want to die of shamefulness and humiliation. She can feel their hatred towards her from a million miles away, and it's hard to roll her eyes and laugh at them now.

Maybe she doesn't wear the most fashionable clothes, maybe she doesn't have a boyfriend, maybe she doesn't slather on three pounds of makeup every day, but that doesn't mean she should let herself get picked on.

At first, she fights back, insulting them too. When they continue their taunts and jeers, she runs out of ways to get back at them and tries to ignore them. But weeks pass and the girls continue to press on, targeting her weaknesses. They tell everyone to stay away from her because she's so stupid and bad-looking that her ugliness could be contagious. And, of course, everyone else follows their lead, probably because the bullies scare them.

And so Miku has no friends.

She's always thought that those girls were just lying and making up insults, until she looks in a mirror for the first time in weeks.

Since when has she been this ugly?

— - O - —

Miku begins to accept the girls' insults as true. They're right. Why hasn't she noticed it before? She _is _fat, especially her legs. Her face is covered in—ew, gross!—acne. Her skin is dull and pale, and her hair looks dry and dead. (Why is it teal, anyway? What an weird, unnatural color.)

She's the most disgusting thing she's ever seen.

Honestly, she winces whenever she looks in a mirror because she knows that she'll never become any prettier. She's never even cared about her body image before, but now she can't stop looking at her ugly, flawed features. She would've given anything to become like those beautiful girls on the cover of her fashion magazines. _They've _probably never worried about how they look.

The nasty girls' voices always echo in her head, especially at night. She tries to sleep, but the insults and laughter overwhelm her mind, so she can't think about anything else. And it pains her because she knows they're true, that she really is fat and horrible-looking.

Why? Why wasn't she born prettier?

Lying on her bed, she covers her ears and squeezes her eyes shut tightly to keep the tears from spilling out. But they fall anyway, sliding down her cheeks. And she cries in the dark, black shadows of her bedroom at night.

Miku used to be strong and confident, but the bullies have reduced her to nothing.

That is the first night of endless nights that she cries in despair, in self-hatred.

— - O - —

A year has passed and now it's seventh grade, middle school. Miku used to look forward to middle school, but now she hates it. All it means is harder classes and more people who avoid her like she's a contagious disease, thanks to those nasty girls_ still_ picking on her.

And that's not all of it. Miku's parents begin to push her and say that she has to work harder, study more. _It's middle school now, _they say. They have high expectations for her. They expect her to be top in the class, in every class. Oh yeah, and they also make her join countless sports teams, music lessons, singing classes. It's for her own good, they say. It's to get into a good college and get a good job, they say. Maybe it's just so they can brag to other people about their "perfect" daughter.

_Perfect._ Yeah, right.

The stress and fear and loneliness makes Miku want to crack. It leads to long nights of crying and crying and no sleep at all. When she wakes up in the morning, she sees a girl with rat's-nest hair and pale skin and dark circles under bloodshot, red-rimmed eyes. She no longer has time or energy for anything anymore, and nothing interests her, either.

Maybe Miku shouldn't have been born. In her place, there would be a truly perfect girl, a perfect daughter. She would be popular and pretty and smart and talented and _good at everything. _Just like Miku wasn't.

She's nothing. She's a ghost of her former self. She has no place in this world. Why is she even alive?

She should just die, somehow. She doesn't know how, and she doesn't want to go through the whole suicide thing. She doesn't want counseling help for her depression, either. She just wants to get out of here, for someone to take her away.

If only someone would do that.

— - O - —

Loneliness is a terrible thing. It haunts you at night and makes you feel alone. That, along with the continued rumors and insults about you, makes you want to hate everyone. Add extremely high expectations from your parents, lessons and classes every minute of the day. Add a terrible body and ugly features—self-hatred. Also, the despair, the depression, and you might be really hating life. You might really want to get out of here.

Those are Miku's thoughts as she stares at herself in the mirror one afternoon.

All of a sudden, out of nowhere, she becomes angry.

This is _stupid._

There has to be more than life to this. This is pathetic. _She _is pathetic. She's weak and dumb and everything. You can't just sit there and cry for yourself, act like some selfish pig, only caring about yourself. You have to _do _something about it. You have to change what you don't like about your life.

For Miku, she has to change everything.

— - O - —

Miku recreates her body to her satisfaction. Some days she starves herself and doesn't eat anything, other days she binges and purges. It hurts. It's terribly painful. But Miku has to do this. She needs to. Beauty hurts, sometimes, but it's all worth it in the end.

She washes her hair and straightens it, brushes it ten times a day. She grits her teeth as she combs out the infinite tangles in her long teal hair, which she hasn't brushed in weeks, and tears spring to her eyes. But she smiles and laughs, even. One day she'll be beyond this. She goes to a hairstylist, the most expensive one around, but it doesn't matter to her. She gets her ears pierced, her nails polished and painted.

After all this pain, she'll finally be pretty. _Beautiful, _even.

Miku works hard and studies, too. She studies until her brain hurts and her eyes ache and her head spins. She becomes the student she wished she were, the athlete she's always hoped she'd become. Her arms and legs are gorgeous, shaped and nicely toned. She can now play three different instruments well after hours and hours of hard practice, and she takes singing lessons till her voice hurts, but it sounds beautiful and high.

She buys heaps and heaps of new clothes and shoes, throwing out her old, unfashionable ones. Honestly, how can anyone wear such ugly things anymore? Her new outfits are from the most expensive stores ever, but her parents don't mind because she's finally smart and athletic and beautiful, a daughter any parent would want. She's a daughter they can be proud of.

After a few years have passed, with Miku destroying all traces of her past and creating herself new again, it's the day before high school.

Miku looks in the mirror and beams, a satisfied grin spreading across her face.

She hasn't smiled in years.

— - O - —

Back to the present—high school.

Miku's the most beautiful, popular girl in the whole school. She's the peppiest cheerleader, the fastest runner, the most talented gymnast. She has straight A's, she's recieved more than a dozen certificates for academic achievements, and has the highest test scores. She can now play _five _different instruments (which she's all amazing at) and is the best singer in the school choir.

When she looks in the mirror, she sees a glamorous, pretty girl with perfect makeup—layers of mascara and eyeshadow and lip gloss. She has flawless porcelain skin, and her long, shiny teal hair is perfectly straight and gorgeous. She's wearing the most expensive designer labels and fancy shoes.

She's slender and thin now, which she's always wanted and worked so hard to get. She has an amazingly stunning figure. She has an adoring boyfriend and hundreds, yes, hundreds, of friends. Most of them are admiring fans of her. She's like a celebrity in the school.

Miku's perfect. There's really no other way to describe her.

But is this really what she wants?

* * *

I'm sort of new to Vocaloid, so I guess this is my welcome to the fandom.

Thanks for reading! Hope you like it, and please review!


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